Hakuna Matata
by SpraceJunkie
Summary: In which Spot is an inarticulate-while-speaking poet, Race really likes classic Disney, and I slip in a casual reference to the play I'm doing a scene from. Fun times, trust me! Sprace slash. Modern AU.


"I love you. I love you so much, and I never told you because when I was little, my dad taught me it was weak. I know that's not an excuse, not at all, but it's what I have. I never knew how I should say my love, so I never even tried to. But I really do love you, so much, and I really do want to be with you forever, and I'm sorry I never said it before. I love you, Tony, and I want you to know that. I want you to know that every time you've told me, I wanted to say it, but I didn't. It's not weak to say it, it's weak to pretend I don't feel anything. So I'm telling you now, before I convince myself not to, that I love you and I miss you and I can't _stand_ you thinking I don't care, because I know that's why you left. I just...I don't know how to say what I feel, and then when I feel something as strongly as I love you, I freeze and don't say anything, and that ruined our relationship and it's all my fault. Please, Tony, please, you've got to believe that I didn't mean to hurt you by not saying anything. I love you, I really do, and I need you back. I don't like just being me anymore, Tony! I need you here! I need to wake up with you next to me and go to sleep with you next to me and watch Disney movies with you when one of us is sick and go out with you and come home and kiss you every night and just _be_ with you. I need _you_. I _love_ you! Please, please, Tony, come home. I can't stand this. Please, call me back. Okay? Even if it's to tell me you've moved on. I need to know, Tony. Please." Spot ended the message and sat back down in the chair he hadn't moved far from in the six days since Race had left. The television was glowing, the volume down low, and when he glanced at it he saw that he had put the Lion King VHS tape in sometime before.

 _Hakuna Matata, ain't no passing craze!_

 _It means no worries for the rest of your days!_

 _It's our problem free philosophy! Hakuna Matata!_

Race had always insisted on the VHS tape being superior, so they had somehow collected all of their favorites on the clunky black things and rescued a VHS player from some tag sale somewhere. The Lion King was Race's absolute favorite Disney movie, except for maybe Tangled. Although he would never admit to liking Tangled.

"On principle, I have to hate it. It's not classic animation, that means it's bad."

But Spot knew that he loved it. They always ended up watching it when Race was sick, and he knew all the words, to both songs and dialogue. But the Lion King was the movie they watched when neither of them were sick, they just wanted some sappy movie to watch together on the couch and cuddle. They used any excuse to do that.

Spot sighed and settled himself deeper down into the chair and zoned out on the movie, not really watching as memories of him and Race watching together came back. He drifted off into an unhappy sleep when the movie ended, leaving the tape player whirring and whining as it tried to play further but ran out of tape. He subconsciously recognized the high pitched whirring of the auto-rewind kicking in and shifted, ending up curled on his side.

He was startled awake by knocking on his door a few hours later. The noise made him sit up, rubbing his eyes. The knocking paused, but as Spot stood up it resumed.

"Coming, coming." He muttered, rubbing his eyes again to get rid of some of the redness and running his fingers through his hair. He knew he looked like a mess, but at this point he didn't even care. He flipped the lock open and slid back the chain. "Whaddya-" He stopped talking when the door was open enough for him to recognize the face. Big dark eyes, a mouth that was usually smirking, early smile lines caused by the fact that his smile almost never left his face. Dark hair that was constantly messy from his hats. Race. Tony. "Tony?"

"Sean. Can I...can I come in?" He had the same quality in his eyes that Spot had in his, that almost bloodshot color.

"I...yeah." He stepped aside, letting Race step past.

"I got your message." He was speaking awkwardly. Race never talked like that. He was the most open, honest, confident person Spot knew. That was what made Spot fall for him in the first place. His comments and jokes that would have made most people fear for their social standing, the dirty jokes and oh-so-awkward remarks thrown out without any signs of embarrassment. And here he was, somewhere in between a blush and being scared, speaking slowly and haltingly, far from his normal mannerism. "I...I guess…" His voice trailed off and he took a breath. "Did you mean it? I mean, did you _really_ mean it? Not just wanting to have me for sex and cuddles, but really, _really_ mean every word you said?" Race said quietly.

"Tony...I…"

"I knew you didn't. You can't say it to my face."

"No! Tony...I...I love you, okay? I really, truly love you, and I never said it once, even when I had every chance to. I totally ignored everything I felt, and then I just almost blew it again, didn't I? I'm sorry Tony, okay? I'm sorry and I really do love you! Please, Tony, you gotta believe me, I do!" Race had turned back to the door like he was going leave again.

"How do I know I can believe you?" His voice was quiet again, but a different kind of quiet. It was a choked quiet, like he was trying not to cry and didn't want to show it. Spot reached forward as if to touch Race but stopped himself. "How do I _know_ , Sean? You never said anything to tell me you really cared, no matter what I said. How do I _know_ I can believe that you really do love me like I love you?" Spot touched his shoulder gently now.

"C'mere. I...well, you woulda seen it before, anyway. I wanted to tell you, really, but I just didn't know how, so I...I started to write. I never told you...but writing is how I deal. Especially...well, you'll see. I started to write it for you before...everything...and I finished it a few days ago." As he babbled, he led Race back into the bedroom of the apartment and pulled a notebook out of his bedside drawer. That drawer was the only he'd touched in the room since Race had left. He flipped to a place near the back and folded the notebook open, handing it to Race and putting his hands behind his back nervously.

"I act like it's nothing. The truth eludes you and me. I say nothing. I do nothing. I know. You don't. I don't know how to say it. You say it all the time. But it's...it's the same feeling both ways. It's different for you, though. The words leave your mouth so easily. So many times. And here I am. Sitting. Silent. Waiting. Procrastinating. Pretending the feeling isn't there. And then it's...it's too late. You're gone. You don't know. You might not ever be back. Because I waited. Stayed quiet. Pretended I felt nothing. I ignored what I felt. And it's all still there. Still building and growing even when you're gone. All that. Still there. Still...still big. And beautiful. And I still wait. And now it's too late." Race's voice broke several times as he read what was probably the worst poem Spot had ever written out loud. "Because you're gone. And I let it slip away. Because I stood still. I let it go. Gone."

"I...it's pretty bad. Not like the others." Race looked up and Spot could see a few tears shining in his eyes.

"You...you...there's others?" Spot nodded and made a motion to flip through the notebook.

"I...I never showed anybody. It was...embarrassing, I guess." Race paged through, scanning the poems filling the pages, with the odd short story thrown in the mix.

"How could you be embarrassed by this, Sean? It's...it's amazing."

"It's just...I can't put things into words, you know? I mean...yeah, you do, that's what caused this whole mess. But I can always find ways to write them down when I can't say them. And...my dad was never proud of it. He said boys didn't write poetry, and then the teacher found one and it got him locked up and I never stopped writing them, but I didn't wanna show anybody. I...I guess I never quite didn't believe that it wasn't okay for me to be a writer."

"But...but these are amazing, Sean. You...you write beautifully. And...and…" He shook his head like he was at a loss for words.

"But...do you...I meant it, Tony. I really meant everything I said."

"I...I know, Sean. I can...I can tell. And I...I love you, too. I love you, I never stopped and I missed you so much and I hoped to death I'd be able to get you back and now I can and-" Spot cut off Race's babbling with a kiss, which Race returned enthusiastically.

"I love you too, Tony, so much, and I can't believe I never told you." He murmured when they parted, still close together. "Come back? Live with me again, and let us be us again, not just Sean and Tony but Sean _and_ Tony. Please, say yes."

"How could I say no, Sean? I _love_ you."

"I love you." They kissed again. "And I missed you and need you in my life and now you're here to stay. Please don't leave again." Race deepened the kiss, and pushed Spot back onto the bed.

"I'm not leaving ever again, no matter what. I missed you too much, and I love you too much. I couldn't live without you again, not ever again."

They ended up on the couch after a while, cuddling as close together as possible and watching Tangled.

"You know I hate this movie-"

"On principle. I know. The animation is all wrong."

"But the romance-"

"Is wonderfully crafted."

"You know me too well."

"You say the same things every time."

"Mmm." Race turned to kiss him. "I guess so."

"When this is over, we can always watch the Lion King."

"Let's."

"Okay."

 _Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase._

 _Hakuna Matata, ain't no passing craze._

 _It's our problem free, philosophy._

 _Hakuna Matata!_

 _Hakuna. Matata._

 _Hakuna. Matata._

 _Hakuna. Matata._

"Hakuna Matata."

"Hakuna Matata."

 **Because, you know. A line from the Crucible ("I never knew how I should say my love" is the line, by the way) made me think break-up Sprace and somehow led to the Lion King which somehow led to specifically Hakuna Matata and then evolved into that Tumblr headcanon about Poet!Spot and then went back to Race being hardcore classic Disney trash. Stress does weird things to the brain, I tell ya.**


End file.
